


All The Things that Could Have Been

by ketomax



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gentle Kissing, M/M, Space Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 13:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16724667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketomax/pseuds/ketomax
Summary: When the world hangs in the balance for the hundredth time, the thousandth time, it all gets a little bit too much.The Master's tired of it. The Doctor more so. The anger fades and is replaced by longing, and a desperate need for eachother.





	All The Things that Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheCephalopodAgency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCephalopodAgency/gifts).



> This was written for the 55th anniversary on 23/11/2018.
> 
> It was also written for my wonderful girlfriend who I absolutely love and adore and who's having a tough time right now. Chin up babe, I'm here for you.
> 
> I may or may not have also dragged her into Doctor Who hell with me in which case I'm also sorry for that too.
> 
> Anyways, allons-y !

“Wonder what I’d be, without you,” the Doctor says pointedly, his voice unusually quiet.

  
It knocks the Master off guard, not only because of the intimacy of the question but because of the rich warm reverberations of their native tongue that fills his ears. It sends chills down his spine and he swallows thickly, feeling all too open and exposed all of a sudden. He even feels something prick at the corner of his eyes, a welling sadness that had picked now of all times to rear its ugly head. All he can manage is a blink to fight those tears away, and a flex of his hands into fists in his pockets and a soft but subtle reply; “Yeah.”

  
The Doctor watches that face journey with rapt attention, his eyes drifting over his face, that war torn face with eyes that had stared into time itself and won where he had only loss. The Master was his antithesis, his arch enemy, and his greatest companion and even more so now being the last of their kind. “My offer... It still stands.”

  
The offer throws him for six, what with him being a little emotionally uneasy. He looks up, eyes threatening to brim as his mind shifts to that native tongue of his that languished for so long unused. “What offer?”

  
He hopes he will undo the straps soon; it was uncomfortable at best and cramping at worse- this chair was not made for someone his height. “The offer I made at the academy... I’d see every star in the universe with you. It still stands...”

  
The Master draws closer, thumb brushing against the head restraint, unusually gentle. “You... Still remember that? All those years ago, almost a millennium. So long ago...” his voice is barely above a whisper, increasingly intimate.

  
“Please, Koschei, come see the stars with me. All you have to do is see it, you don’t have to own it. Just see it with me.” The Doctor uses the Master’s name, staring dead into his eyes, and he sighs softly. “Please.”

  
The Master looks visibly shocked and takes a moment to process the information he’s just heard. It had been so long since anyone had called him by that name. He trembles and gently replaces his hand, now stroking the fine wisps of the Doctor’s hair idly like one would stroke a pet. “Oh, Theta, what a long time it’s been since anyone’s addressed me so intimately. You really mean it? You would trust me inside your TARDIS after all I’ve done to her?” his voice seems... Oddly distant, upset, strained. His eyes seem tired, pained, and brimming with tears that threaten to fall.

  
The Doctor lets him touch and actually finds the sensations nice and comforting. “We’re both too old to be warring like this. I can help, I can,” he begins but he gets cut off by the Master mid sentence.

  
“You can what, make me better?” there’s a tinge of sarcasm in the Master’s voice, but underneath that, there’s the childlike hope that maybe the Doctor can do so.

  
Without missing a beat, The Doctor smiles and nods a little, or as much as he can in the seat he’s strapped into. “The man who makes people better. I remember once you said it was a little too sanctimonious... But I mean it. Let me in, let me help.” His voice wavers slightly as if he’s worries the Master will say no. As if he’s only playing along for this whole twisted ride.

  
It sends him into a wild euphoria when he feels the Master’s fingers press gently against his own temples and he can just about pick up the unfiltered telepathic signals he’s sending out. It hurt to be so open; the Doctor himself was often closed off to avoid the headaches that came with the psychically untrained interfering with his own signals. He lets the Master into his signal, and thinks long and hard about being in the TARDIS together, flying across all of time and space.

  
The Master feels the signal strengthen between them both and closes his eyes, sighing. Oh, the longing. The pain. The guilt. The Doctor, the wise soldier, the man who regrets everything and everyone. The Master groans a little and sees the plans the Doctor has for him, sees his intentions- never hurting him never punishing him. “I can feel you. I can feel you in here, in my head and in my hearts... And yet... There’s still room in there for me.”

  
“Oh, always. There’s always room for you, always has been and always will be,” the Doctor smiles hopeful and feels an opening in the Master’s link and gently asks for safe passage. “Let me in, please Koschei, please. I can’t lose you, not again.”

  
The two of them stand for the next few minutes in silence as they speak within the link, hands gently touching and getting used to each other all over again. The year that never was felt like literal decades ago, the link bringing up all those painful memories. Mania filled his mind and he felt the pang of regret (he was almost certain it was regret) when the Master saw those thoughts surface. And then when he felt the pain the Doctor felt when he cradled his dying body- god, he never wanted to make him feel that ever again.

  
“Theta, don’t leave me. I’m tired, the noise in my head, I’m tired of it. Please don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he finally manages, the Master’s voice quiet and exhausted. He begs, genuinely, and strokes his cheek with his thumb his pulse racing as he wants nothing more than to lean in and kiss those lips of his.

  
He can feel that sparking need between them, the telepathic link was beginning to spark and fizz and pop with potential and the Doctor feels his cheeks flush slightly. He’s wanted to do the same since seeing him on the television as the Prime Minister but couldn’t bring himself to do it in front of Martha and Jack. They wouldn’t have understood. “Koschei,” is all he says aloud, but the link says otherwise.

  
The pain melts away as the Master closes the gap and feels the Doctor’s lips against his own. The Doctor feels time stop in that very moment, his hearts pounding between his ears as the Master deepens the kiss. His eyes fluttered closed in sheer pleasure. The Master’s thumb undoes the head strap to give the Doctor a little more movement and feels him immediately press up and into the kiss. The link is chock full of powerful emotions, burning bright like a supernova, as electric as the heart of the TARDIS; it makes them both gasp in excitement and pleasure as the Doctor finally opens his eyes and his pupils are blown wide to take in the view of the Master looking thoroughly unravelled.

  
“There’s no future without you.”

  
“Or you.”


End file.
